


Social Creatures

by apollos



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Curtain Fic, F/M, Fluff, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-06
Updated: 2018-02-06
Packaged: 2019-03-14 15:21:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13592886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apollos/pseuds/apollos
Summary: Ben and Rey argue about pets.





	Social Creatures

**Author's Note:**

> after watching the last jedi and being converted to a dirty reylo, i was discussing this fact with a friend who said, "i just can't imagine them deciding to adopt a dog together." i took this as a personal challenge, wrote this fic, and forgot about it until just now.

Ben goes through periods of obsessions. Rey has learned to deal with them; it's best to ignore him, let it work out on his own, and eventually he will return to his baseline. Selected obsessions include: the destruction of the Resistance (which he failed in, in part due to Rey getting through to him and bringing him to actually  _recuperate_ the Resistance); learning every possible language in the galaxy (which he believed to be possible through the Force, and it was not); designing them a penthouse in a very populated city on a very populated planet (which he wanted to decorate in  _all black_ because he is a walking stereotype of himself and Rey put her foot down because she is perfectly happy  _owning their own fucking planet_.)

Now he wants a pet.

"Look around you, Ben. We are surrounded by creatures," she says when he brings this up. They're sitting on their porch, sipping afternoon drinks, watching the suns set. She's leaving tomorrow on an exploration mission, trying to find out more information on the origins of the Jedi, and he's needed for a series of visits to the poorer parts of the galaxy that will culminate in a parade and a speech. She wants to spend their last night together (outside of the Force Bond) for what will likely be months in peaceful quiet. Spar a little as the bugs start to chirp, eat a simple dinner, tangle themselves up in the sheets for a while and then sleep. She will need to get up in the morning to prepare; he won't leave until later in the day. She doesn't want to get into this now.

"I mean something we keep inside the house. A companion."

"A minion," she teases, smiling over at him.

"I am serious, Rey," he says, using his  _serious voice._

"Oh, Ben, I know you are." She puts a hand on his knee. "There is no reason for us to get a pet, alright? We'll be leaving it alone here, wouldn't that be terrible?"

"I would take it with me," he says. He has clearly put thought into this. "I'm thinking—there are animals similar to the vulptexes, but they're lava-based instead of crystal-based. I hear there has been an initiative to domesticate them." He reaches over and pulls a holograph device from where he'd left it behind his chair. Up pops a picture of this animal—and it does indeed look like a vulptex, and though she can't discern the color from the shivering blue of the hologram, she has a feeling it's probably black and red.

"No," she says, simply.

"They're incredibly loyal," he says. "I would not leave it here alone—he would accompany me on my trips. It would be a symbol of strength, and power."

"You already  _are_ a symbol of strength and power. No need for some silly lava creature."

"It's not silly." He has a slight pout in his voice; she squeezes his knee. Though she believes this to be the true version of him—that the hard shell he built around his true vulnerability has been cracked, and what is in front of her is the yoke of him—she sometimes has difficulty reconciling this man that desires a pet in such a childish way to the man that's forming a healthy political atmosphere to the galaxy to the man she fought all those years ago. All the same person, Ben is—except not, because Kylo Ren disappeared long ago. She sees Leia's steely kindness in his eyes, Han's playful gambling streak. She traces over his scar at night, sometimes, and thinks: I broke you to put you back together again.

"If we get a pet," she says, suddenly feeling the effect of the drink—or perhaps his enthusiasm is infectious—"it will be a porg."

"A  _porg_?" he says, reeling back. The lava creature frolics on the hologram. "Those stupid birds from Ahch-To?"

"They are not stupid. They are friendly and round."

"They're glorified pigeons."

"They're fat." She smiles. "We could name one Chubby."

"Oh, now you're picking out  _names_ for the porg." He scoffs, leaning back in his chair, sliding an ankle over a knee.

"I'm sure you have names picked out for your lava creature," she says, taking her hand off his knee and leaning over the side of her chair. He says nothing, and she reaches over to tug on a lock of his hair. "You do, don't you? Aw, tell me."

"There are a possibility of dignified, cultural names I am considering," Ben says at last.

"Is one of them Vader? Perhaps just 'Darth?'"

He shoots a look at her, and her heart sinks. Sometimes it's okay to joke about that—sometimes not. She moves her hand as if to wipe away what she just said, and he nods. When this happens, this is what they do; it's an evocation of their bag of tricks from the Force, a sign of their connection beyond what dumb things they might say sometimes.

"How about this," she says. "If you let me get a porg—no, wait,  _two_ porgs, they  _are_  social creatures—I'll agree to your lava creature."

He smiles and reaches out a hand. She brushes her fingers against them, then takes it fully, an exaggerated handshake. "We'll discuss it over the Force," he says.

"Yes," she says. "You know, I  _am_ going back to Ahch-To on this trip. It's very important Jedi history."

"I do know. I am going to try to meet you there, remember?"

"Well, I think I can pick up three or four porgs there."

He raises his eyebrows. "We agreed on two?"

"Let us compare the size of the porgs to the size of a lava creature."

"The porgs are fat, you said."

"They're not that fat!" she says, laughing fully now. "They're—oh, forget it. We'll discuss it over the Force." And she stretches out of her chair, surging forward to kiss him, tangle her hands in his hair. He's laughing, too.

And four months later they are sitting on this porch once more, the lava-creature (which are called vulpjets, and this specific one Kessel) and a handful of porgs in Rey's lap. Kessel snoozes, his head on Ben's feet, while the porgs bounce and chitter, one of them pulling at Rey's hair and making her laugh. Ben is quiet, staring ahead. The suns are setting; there are drinks in their hands; they're expecting a visit from Leia and Chewie tomorrow. Rey doesn't think it, she is completely in the moment, but if she were to think it—the eventual outcome of all things, the paths your life takes you—it is amazing and marvelous and a force all in itself.


End file.
